Duty and Deceit
by Decepticon Worship
Summary: Longarm Prime's decision for a new Sparkmate due to some insistence from Cliffjumper leaves most of the army in aftershock, as on the other hand, that Intended will soon know a second glance always pays off. (BlurrXLongarm/Shockwave)
1. I - What Goes Around

**Disclaimer: All rights to Transformers belong to Hasbro.**

 **A/N: Well, let's start this right off the bat. This was some crazy idea that spawned itself in that huddled brain of mine – let's say I have an awkward imagination. Now I have the time to actually get it written down, however long this took (I didn't really pay attention).**

 **I'm unsure of where this story is going to take me, but we'll ascend our ladder in time. First things first, if I do say so myself. And I can already assure you positively that you will enjoy yourself through the whole thing. That is, if you're a slight-or-heavy shipper of Blurr and Longarm/Shockwave.**

 **This is not the first story I have ever posted here, let's get that through our heads. I have another account, but I preferred if I continued my Transformers writings here. If you are familiar with my work (you know who you are), welcome back! If you do happen to be new to anything of my own, I welcome you with open arms to all that I am going to write in the near future! We'll get all along just fine, won't we?**

 **Now, not all Author's notes are going to be so… expansive. This is just the beginning A/N, so we understand everything we're about to read. And you've read the summary, I'm sure, so you get the basic picture.**

 **If you're one of those people that take the time to read the Author's Notes, I just have to say a great thank-you to exploring what the contents of this Fanfiction may hold in store for you. Who knows, you may find something in here to your liking. And to be honest, I wasn't expecting the first thing for myself to write to be** _ **Transformers: Animated,**_ **more along the lines of** _ **Transformers: Prime,**_ **but those nitpicks are minor.**

 **Now, I do not believe there is any more cause to the delay of this chapter. Oh yes, I forgot.**

 **The rating.**

 **It will remain T. This isn't one of those stories that will eventually become M. There will be mention of some slightly-graphic material (blood, gore, etc.) but nothing that teens cannot handle. If you cannot handle slightly-graphic, then this isn't your cup of tea. Don't say I didn't warn you.**

 **Since this story is for teens, I highly advise anyone below thirteen not to read it – but since when did anyone listen to this? Curiosity always gets the better of us – so, if you do choose to go on, enjoy.**

 **Now, here we go!**

* * *

"Duty and Deceit"

I:

What Goes Around

Surprisingly, it was Cliffjumper's idea in the first place. He had initiated a few talks with the Head of Cybertron Intelligence himself, as it were. No one in the Headquarters really had known his plan in the beginning, but suspicions of its contents were aroused as the questionings progressed. Whatever his intentions had been, Cliffjumper had been consuming a lot of time from Longarm Prime. The nature of these talks had been rather abstract, and the subjects of it were discrete. Only the Head of Intel knew of the true definition behind all of the uncomfortable prodding that Cliffjumper had been advancing upon.

Longarm pestered not an Autobot's audio receptors of these chats, despite whatever they would desire of its information. After the meetings with the vermilion Cybertronian, the Prime swiftly entered back into his office through the clear, sliding-glass doorways and proceeded his prior task. But several times already had the Elite Guard notified that Longarm's expression after those talks was usually stressed or lacking much emotion, although the Prime's face-plates were typically stoic.

And throughout the events of those talks, Cliffjumper became a bit… different on his external display. He walked with his head high, chin pointed up slightly. Not arrogant, to say at the least, but certainly… proud. His digits twitched every so often and his gait was long and graceful, as if he were trying to relieve some stress from off of his weighty shoulders. Nonetheless, the Elite Guard did notice, especially when a meeting was summoned for the highest of Cybertron Intelligence to transfer information with Cybtertron Command, Cliffjumper greeted all of his superiors with a dazzling smile, a firm handshake, and a coherent tone.

Myriad suggestions came to as why Cliffjumper may be acting in such an awkward manner amongst the members of the Intelligence team, but there was no definite answer. No one bothered Cliffjumper about the suspicious behavior. Heads kept themselves tucked once they heard the familiar twang of the vermilion mech's pedes. Because that Cybertronian had such a… _temper,_ no one bothered asking. Not like they ever wanted to.

Among the first to notice these unusual changes, Agent Blurr kept his servos locked tight as he paraded the hallways towards his destination. Several times other members of the Elite Guard pressed on the topic towards the loyal hyper-speed-sprinting chatterbox, but Blurr always stayed locked up about it. His primary concern hadn't rather been Cliffjumper, but more Longarm on his end of the toll booth. What had the vermilion Agent been promising their leader? He wouldn't dare admit the reason to his concerns, as he was constantly reminding even himself that he _did not_ have romantic feelings towards his Superior Officer.

And, after the weeks of pressing, Blurr was sure soon to figure out, Longarm agreed to whatever Cliffjumper had been saying. Not surprising enough, the blue Agent did soon crack out what it was:

Cliffjumper had been looking forward to giving Longarm a Sparkmate.

The aftershock was what sent Blurr on end. Longarm… a Sparkmate? He didn't seem the nicety type; that much was clear. The Prime was emotionless and cold, typically for duty over his free-time, dedicating many hours to the cause of the Autobots. The heavier mech didn't appear to have much time to mingle about with a Sparkmate. However, that wasn't the only problem Blurr was having internal conflict with himself about…

Longarm was going to get a Sparkmate? One that wouldn't be _him?_

Now the Agent was nervous. At first, this disturbing chapter hadn't been part of the equation, but Blurr was aware of his terrified, unrequited love over the Prime. He was dashing, charming, pleasant, kind, understandable, powerful, and responsible – an overall great Sparkmate. Apart for that busy factor.

Except Blurr now knew quite damply that he wasn't going to be that selected, although it didn't really quite seem that Longarm loved anyone. Blurr had tried to get some time for himself and the Prime to talk by lingering over-hours in the office that Longarm worked or hindering in the lobby downstairs while the behemoth mech swapped data-pads with his Inferior Officers in order to intercept transmissions between Decepticons, but the Prime usually paid him no heed, much.

That was exaggerating, a bit.

Longarm responded to everything Blurr said, for he was quite adept at picking up on what the speedster was saying, but that comrade/comrade relationship never felt like it was tilting a bit higher, ever. Blurr wasn't aware of if that was the truth, or just simple paranoia – because the Prime seemed very fond of partnering with him through scouts or just simply having him around.

The subject itself was really quite the most bit… overwhelming.

* * *

And on that uneventful day on Cybertron, Blurr swiveled through the vital information on his data-pad as he crouched achingly beside Longarm Prime's desk, awaiting for his opportunity to report. Cliffjumper was out on an important occasion that day, and the Agent was forced to fill in for the vermilion Cybertronian's duties while he was gone. Tomorrow, however, he'd be back in and able to satisfy whatever he'd missed.

Right now the Prime was occupied with another client having come by traces of a transmission between Megatron and his second-in-command, Starscream. Or at least that was what he thought – evidence was heavily proving otherwise. The Elite Guard member seemed positive that his theory was one hundred-percent accurate, despite all means against it.

Blurr's primary focus was trying to memorize the contents of the data-pad, but his mind buzzed with the information he'd worried himself only about two weeks ago. How long would it be until the Prime would pick his Sparkmate and forever have someone he could look out for and trust?

Finding it achingly hard to focus, Blurr pressed the palm of his right servo against his head – painstakingly cold. The soft murmurs of Longarm and the other mech echoed against the Agent's head as he listened nonchalantly to their conversation. It seemed as though Longarm was taking the whole "transmission" idea under consideration, but he waved off the Elite Guard member nonetheless.

However, Blurr remained quiet as he wrapped his arms around his long pedes and stayed crouched over. In how many days would the loyal Sparkmate be chosen? Surely there would not be much time.

Despite whatever odds there appeared to be on Blurr's side that Longarm was not interested in many of the Cybertronians around here, he had doubts that he himself was on the consideration list. But there was a light, dull tugging at the back of his thoughts. Was that his name being called? Was he really the one?

"– Um, excuse me, Agent Blurr? May I see the data-pad now?"

Shaken from his thoughts, the speedster looked up and found Longarm Prime's cyan eyes meeting his own. Flushing across his face-plates for that lack of awareness, Blurr leaned forward and extended his arm to let the more experienced mech take away what the data-pad had to offer.

"Is there something wrong, Agent Blurr? You seem to be distant today."

Again, Blurr struggled to get back in with the real world as he turned to focus on the Superior Officer. "I'm-fine-Longarm-Prime-Sir-just-feeling-a-bit-lightheaded-as-of-late-due-to-some-emotional-stress-that-has-been-going-on-in-my-head-it'll-pass-soon."

"I see," Longarm snorted, downloading the files from the data-pad onto his terminal's mainframe. "I hope you feel better soon – you're not usually one that lets the worst of days really get to you."

Blurr snorted. "Eh." Rubbing idly at the back of his neck, the Agent continued, "It's-really-no-big-deal-I-don't-really-feel-bad-about-much-of-anything-so-I'm-guessing-it'll-move-on-soon-you-don't-have-to-worry-about-it-because-it-won't-interfere-with-my-work-I-can-assure-you."

The Head of Cybertron Intel dipped his head in acknowledgement. "If you don't mind me asking," he conceded, unplugging the data-pad from the terminal, "what's on your mind? Is there any way I could help at all?"

Although pleased with the suggestion, Blurr kept his head ducked and muttered, "Hmm. I-don't-think-there's-anything-you-could-do-but-I-appreciate-the-fact-that-you-tried."

Longarm snorted. "That doesn't answer my question, Agent Blurr; what's on your mind? I think I could do _something_ to alleviate your problems. Even if it doesn't work – who says we didn't make a few attempts at it? Even if it isn't that coherent what is currently going on in your processor."

Blurr sighed. "T-t-to-be-honest-I-was-thinking-about-your-new-plan-to-get-a-Sparkmate-with-what-Cliffjumper-was-talking-to-you-about."

Now, the Prime's interest was piqued. "How do you know about that?" he asked calmly, his eyes still focused on the data-pad as it now rested in his massive hand. "I'm not angry about it; just a bit curious."

"S-s-s-s-stuff-goes-around-Sir-Longarm-Prime-Sir," Blurr responded in a rushed, nervous voice.

The expression that crossed Longarm's face was quizzical, but he must've decided not to press his questionings any further on that subject. Instead, as a replacement, he responded roughly as he leaned back in his chair, "So… you're suddenly worried about a decision that I have to make? I wouldn't have much concerns regarding that scenario. I'm not even sure I am going to agree, although I did say I would."

It was that subject that interested the blue Agent. "Hmm. Well-does-that-mean-you-won't-do-it?"

"I will have to, soon," Longarm Prime snorted as he extended his arm to give Blurr back the data-pad that he received. "Or else Cliffjumper will come back at me and try again. Any other questions before you return to your duties?"

Blurr reached back again and rubbed the back of his neck cables. "I-was-wondering-when-you-were-going-to-pick-like-what-day-would-that-be?"

Opening the cabinets at his desk and running his digits through the files, Longarm retorted, "Actually, me and Cliffjumper had planned on the day of the event to be tomorrow. The decision that I will have to make is certainly… stressful, to say at the least, for such a short span of time."

"Why-do-you-even-need-a-Sparkmate-Sir-if-you-don't-mind-me-asking?" Blurr willed himself to say as he retrieved the data-pad and ran it through his digits. "It-doesn't-seem-to-me-like-you-have-much-time-for-that."

Longarm shut one of his drawers and set the files upon the desk, eyes flitting briefly back upon Blurr as he continued, "He said it will help relieve some kind of stress that is building up from this war. And to be honest with you, I don't think it will, but Cliffjumper is becoming quite the least bit… _intolerable._ The least I could do to stop him from becoming even further prideful was to oblige to it. Nowadays, the idea doesn't seem like that big of a deal. I wouldn't worry about it."

Blurr acknowledged that with a dip of his head. "Yes-Sir-Longarm-Prime-Sir." After a salute, the Agent turned and started making his way back down the corridors of the Cybertronian structure, but his head throbbed in terror.

This event was supposed to take place…

 _Tomorrow?_

* * *

Word had gotten around about the matter later on that day. The rest of the fleet still stationed there on Cybertron before they were shipped had gotten hyped about the situation, but it eventually died down before it ran through their processors too quickly. Some members of the Elite Guard, such as Warpath and Jetfire, tried guessing who the Sparkmate would be. Other less-important Cybertronians in their caste system went around and tried to make themselves on the list.

Now every Autobot here still stationed on the Metroplex were aware that tomorrow was going to be a big matter for the Autobots. Every member of Cybertron Intelligence showed great signs of respect towards their Superior Officer, Longarm Prime, but remained impassive when he redirected his orders to Ultra Magnus. Vocalizers had it that the Magnus didn't even know of what was stirring under his cold-eyed, penetrating stare.

Not unpredictably, Cliffjumper seemed pleased about the scenario as well as he took matters into his own servos about much questioning. Whatever the Cybertron Intel Agent had planned for his leader wasn't much of a secret anymore, so he had no issues discussing its existence. However, he only seemed to want to expand upon the hype train, in fact.

The day had only further progressed into the shady nighttime over the Metroplex as the highway roads around the massive Cybertronian base grew alight with activity. All the members of the High Autobot Council were inside and having a current session about an energy surge ping that had sounded from a neighboring solar system regarding sinister Decepticon activity, leaving the ones on guard outside and for Cybertron's extreme weather hazards to consume and corrode.

"Agent Blurr, what do you think about the decision that Longarm Prime will be making soon?"

The Agent was ripped from his thoughts as he refocused his optics and found Jazz eyeing him from the side of the platforms they were scouting.

A torrent of wind howled through Cybertron as the mechs perched on their stations. Jazz's single blue visor was pointed at Blurr, his white arms folded, digits fidgeting around themselves as he leaned against a support beam.

It was Blurr that was now surprised that Jazz was even bothering bringing up this subject in itself. The topic had been thoroughly discussed several times over during its brief but absolute life-expectancy, just to now again be rebooted for another discussion on the barren, windswept courtyard outside the Metroplex.

"Um," restated Blurr as he fumbled to get a grip on the bold question, "I-don't-really-know-what-you-mean-by-think-Agent-Jazz-but-if-you're-referring-to-my-thoughts-on-the-idea-in-general-then-I-believe-this-isn't-going-to-benefit-our-Superior-Officer-in-any-way."

Jazz considered the response momentarily before a low chuckle squeezed out through his engines despite any suppression against it. "You share my same ideas – but Cliffjumper thinks this will help with any sort of decisions Longarm Prime will be facing, so I'll go ahead and give him a few kudos for wanting to help at all. Maybe we can give him a shot at this; if it ends up helping that Prime, then he's just done us a big favor. You dig?"

"Um-yeah-sure-I-guess." Blurr folded his cyan arms together and looked at the whirling pit of buildings and roadways outside the Metroplex, buzzing with hidden activity. "Now-that-you're-thinking-about-the-topic-who-do-you-suspect-it-is?"

Silence. "Heh, I don't know. There's plenty of ideas that I've heard all day that could be the real answer or not – who in Primus' name knows? Longarm has always been a bit… standoffish and locked up. I can't imagine whoever it's going to be is going to be expecting the choice, for sure. Hey – that gives me an idea: what if the choice is _Cliffjumper?_ He _did_ come up with it, after all…"

Terror gnawed and gnashed briefly at Blurr's gears. It all made sense now! The puzzle had redone itself without even a second glance. Cliffjumper was probably going to be the choice. Maybe him and Longarm had _planned this –_

Hold on a moment.

Blurr forced his processor to stop working things out so quickly. Longarm had seemed so distraught about the matter earlier, as if it was really quite the encumbrance he hadn't been hoping for. Either that, or one Cybertronian was going to end up as an actor while he was soon to be stationed on Earth.

Jazz's second statement made the skittish, hyper-speed-talking Agent want to quickly redo and rethink his opinion. "You've seen the way that Cliffjumper has been walking around, yeah? Maybe he knows this is his chance, maybe he has all along. Mayhap he cannot just contain his enthusiasm regarding this whole situation. Wow – I'm such a genius."

Blurr squirmed privately where he was posted, although he lacked movement because of his fierce dedication to obeying his orders. "H-have-you-conversed-with-Jetfire-recently-he-thinks-it-could-be-well-you-know-someone-higher-than-his-own-ranking-of-Prime-like…"

"Ultra _Magnus?"_ Jazz conceded, an affronted expression swiftly arriving on his faceplates. "I never thought of _that_ before… don't you think our Magnus would be a bit reluctant to taking on Longarm as a Sparkmate?"

The Agent shrugged absent-mindedly. "I-was-just-requoting-Jetfire-you-know," Blurr finished, rubbing his servos together as another blast of cold chilled his frame. "I-don't-think-Longarm-Prime-Sir-would-do-that-but-maybe-he-will-you-never-be-sure-in-times-like-this."

"You're right about that," Jazz agreed placidly as he leaned further back against the support beam he was still using to hold himself upright. The ninja-bot swiped off his digits as he folded them together. "And as I said before – Longarm is very… distant. Never quite shares anything he knows with anyone else unless it's _important._ His decision could be in plain sight where things are hidden best, or could be just a random drawing from inside an empty data-pad after every Cybertronian here writes their destinations down on a piece of recording."

Grunting after a stab of cold reached up into his gears, Blurr coughed, "We-should-really-not-even-take-the-time-to-guess-it-could-be-anyone-Jazz."

The comment that suggested diminishing the flame of the conversation seemed to downright Jazz, but the ninja-bot shrugged it off instead and snorted through his exhaust fumes, "Fine. But I still really think it could be Cliffjumper."

After that, the Agent said no more, but Blurr wanted to rub idly at the back of his head again, suggesting his nervousness.

 _Cliffjumper?_ Oh Primus, _why…?_

* * *

Quite later regarding the events of standing frigidly outside the Metroplex, most of the Autobots had gone to their barracks or berthrooms for stasis lock and recharge. Some were forced to stay up a bit longer in case of a Decepticon invasion, but chances were beyond zero. Decepticon activity seemed seldom as of late.

During the High Autobot Council's meeting, they discussed the events of the pinging outside the solar system that one of their firewalls had picked up on while an Autobot was rechecking a malfunctioning system outside of the Metroplex base. The suggestion of Decepticon presence there seemed likely, or it could be a stranded Autobot in need of rescue. Still, Longarm Prime and Ultra Magnus confirmed there would not be any members of the Elite Guard there for a while yet.

In case of Decepticon incursion, of course. Starscream or Megatron could have been staging this as a disguise of a downed Autobot shuttle while planning an offensive maneuver. Or it very may have been _Swindle's_ personal cruiser scouting the outer ridges of the neighboring solar systems in searches of a marketing opportunity, or a chance for some credits that could very soon be in his servos.

Whatever it was, however, Longarm had made it clear – no Elite Guard members were investigating the dire situation there. Period.

As the rest of the Intelligence team settled up for recharge, Blurr passed between the two columns leading to the other hallway of berthrooms before he passed by Jetfire and Warpath deep in a conversation again. The barracks here were barely insulated, so chances were if the Cybertronian walking about outside was close enough, he could hear you.

Blurr prodded his audio receptors with a digit as he focused more clearly on the topic. He found himself guilty for listening at all – it wasn't his thing – but he wasn't surprised to find it on their suggestions again. They seemed to be narrowed down to a few less choices than before, but they talked in excited voices as they spoke, clearly close to one another and whispering.

"So who do you think would be Longarm's type?" asked Warpath as he made a noise suggesting movement on his berth.

Jetfire let out a low chuckle, rubbing his servos together. "Is it not more clear?" he buzzed excitedly, "Only the most loyal one here – the one that is willing to obey his every command."

 _Cliffjumper._ Blurr sighed and was about to continue on his way before an even more hushed vocalizer pressed on:

"An energetic type, a very _skittish,_ energetic type? One that might just be _so quick_ that the events of this might all fly right over his own head?"

Warpath paused for a second. "You're not suggesting…?"

"That Longarm will go right for the quickest thing that in this case is _too slow_ to pick up on the obvious? Oh, yeah. You've seen the way Longarm Prime acts and looks at this one..."

It was this comment that must have made Warpath smile behind that massive red plating over his mouth. "You want to _bet?"_ he asked mischievously, rubbing his servos together.

"Slag yeah I do."

Blurr stepped away from the door, rubbing at the back of his neck. What had all _that_ meant? Who here in the entire face of Cybertron was too slow to see Longarm Prime's choice? Shaking his head, the Agent continued down the hallway.

What were those crazy Autobots thinking of?

* * *

After all had been set and stone, Blurr had rushed off to his berthroom as the rest of the agency here combed themselves up for a good recharge. All the events of the day had been overwhelming, to say for the most part. The good thing was, however, that it wouldn't matter tomorrow. Things would go back to the way it always had been, and mayhap hype would die down a bit as the decision's impact would hopefully flush away, as well.

Things also increased their severity seeing as to how Cliffjumper would be returning to the Metroplex after his urgent call from Command. Hopefully, hopefully… whatever Jazz had said was completely naïve and made no sense regarding the situation. But things matched up quite well – why else would Cliffjumper had been so prideful these last few days? Longarm Prime had been right, earlier: the vermilion Cybertronian was intolerable as of late. Everything was starting to make sense now – the puzzle was sorting itself.

Blurr sighed as he set himself up for recharge, letting the soft hum of the berthroom's internal mainframe soothe him to off-lining his optics. Maybe the choice would not be Cliffjumper – but however: it remained a popular opinion it seemed. Agent Blurr found his gears stirring uncomfortably at the thought, but he shrugged it off modestly. Who cared who it was tomorrow? Maybe he'd get over his romantic thoughts for the Prime, and everything could all play itself out despite what everyone else thought. But that didn't shake off the obvious facts that...

It was going to be a _big_ day tomorrow.


	2. II - Decisions At Hyper-Speed

**Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro, therefore I don't own it.**

 **A/N: Welcome to the official second chapter of "Duty and Deceit." Sorry for the inconvenience for the last chapter (there was an issue regarding the title of this story) but hopefully it will resolve itself in time.**

 **Also having technical difficulties with the artwork on this story – Gaaaahh! – It keeps reposting itself as my profile picture and is really starting to get a wreck out of me. Brrrr! I hate those glitches.**

 **If anyone knows a fix, help me out. Please.**

 **As for the guest that reviewed on the first chapter: Yes, this will be a whole chapter book. This is not a one-shot. Trust me, my friend, there will be more. I'm a pretty fast writer, so this book will conclude within a few months' time to mayhap a year or two before I move on to my next plan.**

 **Oh yes, and no squicks in this chapter: just some Cliffjumper jealously, quick thinking (I hate my punny puns), and a POV switch between my OC Boom Box's and Agent Blurr. Also, lots of Jazz, Longarm, and Ultra Magnus. To add to the list, Jetfire and Warpath will play a role in this later on, I thinkies.**

 **This A/N was a** _ **bit**_ **longer than I had initially planned, but there was still a lot for me to say so… there it all is. Not as long as the first one, but trust me, they'll decrease in size as we go along. Annnnnd, thanks to those of you that did bother reviewing. And just to clarify this book was taking down once due to some difficulties regarding its update process so this is a new copy of it.**

 **Thanks to Grimlock Sovereignty for letting me use their OCs, Aftershock and Blackhole!**

 **To summarize that all up… I need to stop saying 'and.' Hmph.**

 **Now let's get to that second chapter, shall we?**

* * *

II:

Decisions At Hyper-Speed

There were six Autobots that were setting up the meeting place for the Sparkmate decision – Boom Box, Radiowave, Soundblast, Megabyte, Subwoofer, and Glitch Prism. It was an annoying thing to overview, to their own opinions, but they did it without complaint. There was a special occasion going on today – why not be helpful for a little while and set things up? Although adorning walls and fixing an appetite for Energon-guzzlers hadn't been how they'd wanted to spend their day, they worked swiftly.

Most of the Autobots that day were still hyped a bit about whatever the heck was going to happen in a few mega-cycles once nighttime had settled in. Jetfire was still conversing with his companions Jetstorm and Warpath about who that Intended could be, and Cliffjumper returned from his call sent from Command and got caught back up in his work. Longarm Prime was in the middle of having a conversation with Ultra Magnus in the center of the meeting plaza, likely trying to make adjustments to the vicinity.

However, requests had been formally made by the Superiors to stop making such a big deal regarding Longarm Prime's choice to obtain a Sparkmate and follow through with duties as you'd in the ordinary. So conversations about the subject stayed muffled and clenched through vocalizers, but myriad thoughts of that selected Chosen were still running rampant in the Autobots' processors.

Furthermore, it was shortly afterward when the six Autobots had been hired:

Boom Box was a straightforward, silent, cold Autobot that had a tendency to go for days without speaking other than saluting and other various signs of respect for his Superior Officers. His black, red, and blue chassis was remarkably thin, and being a former Decepticon, brought very little to no knowing of his past. And, he was a triple-changer, with an alternate mode of a jet and a slick super automobile.

Radiowave was a typically friendly, engage-worthy member of the Intelligence team that supported the idea of having explosives armed all over you while you worked in case you needed a "sacrifice" for the Decepticons, need they ever attack. A bit… mentally unstable and psychotic, this Autobot can often leap before he even looks. It isn't untypical to find his purple-and-blue 'Bot getting into trouble with his Superiors.

Soundblast – a femme, disguised as a mech. She did whatever she could to try and hide _that_ little secret, and to most, it made it through. This femme was snarky, sarcastic, and generally uncomfortable around most of the other Autobots, but she respected those that required the salutes and "Sirs." Being a femme, she has a slender chassis painted brown-and-red.

Megabyte may or may not have had feelings for Soundblast, but he was often next to her trying to start a conversation, likely to the exasperation of the other members of the Elite Guard. Just as rude and hot-headed as that one, too. He respects obedience, discipline, and the Chain-of-Command, but will not _ever_ lose the opportunity to pick on Autobots generally smaller than his own green-and-red self.

Subwoofer – fun-loving, thrill-seeking, friend-making, and party-hunting. Despite his sense of humor, Subwoofer had a processor on him as was actually quite smart when it came to puzzle-solving. He wasn't a scientist, but he wasn't quite as rash as Radiowave regarding last-moment-decision-making. His dark red-and-yellow self is often found trying to make use of himself.

And finally, Glitch Prism; a jet-formed Autobot scientist that wasn't even on the Intelligence team or the Elite Guard. His squadron of stealth units had been alighted over Cybertron to return to Earth but had gotten bombed by a Decepticon plan not undoubtedly conjured by Megatron and Starscream. The airship carrying them had been felled, and this intelligent Autobot was the only one left remaining. His yellow-and-white chassis won't be leaving Cybertron anytime soon.

Truth be told, the six worked efficiently.

They spoke little, Subwoofer speaking the most. It was now directed this time at a rather unfortunate target…

"Hey, Boom Box!"

 _What do_ you w _ant…?_

"Who do _you_ think is going to be the chosen one?"

Silence. It was typical, coming from Boom Box. Subwoofer's optics glinted in hope of a response, but eventually he just flickered them down. At that movement, Boom Box suspected he had given up, but was reencountered with another question:

"Well? Come on, you must have someone in mind!" Subwoofer set aside the Energon cubes he had been carrying, and he leaned on the side of one of the table platforms as he folded his arms across his chest. "Who's it going to be?"

 _Like I would tell_ you.

Boom Box sighed irritably as he shifted through the shelves of data-pads and cabinets to try and organize it before the ceremony. He had a job he had to do – and was going to get it done. These other ungrateful Autobots of the Elite Guard didn't even deserve his responses. Satisfied, Boom Box lifted up his chin a bit; prideful.

Most of the room had been organized the way the Superior Officers had wanted it to, a vast section for the audience, a platform for Longarm Prime to make his decision, and a bunch of Energon cubes would the crowd ever want a drink throughout the choice.

Nightfall was beginning to dawn over the Metroplex, and Cliffjumper came in to monitor the progress of the meeting place after Longarm and Ultra Magnus had dispersed through the other corridors to continue their conversation. Cliffjumper wasn't as strict with socialization, but he made sure that Autobots working got down swiftly whenever they'd a new objective to reach.

Which was usually just sorting data-pads to the right filing drawers or getting a few cubes o Energon to satisfy the Autobots. It had been a while since one such occasion had been called for; furthermore the most of the Metroplex base had planned to _enjoy_ it. Professionally, of course. This was the Elite Guard. In a ceremony.

Not a _Stellar-cycle party._

Once the room had been decorated the way that satisfied the Superior Officers, the six Autobots were able to leave until the audience would be let back inside. In just about one megacycle the ceremony would be starting, which was beneficial at least. Longarm and Ultra Magnus had returned from their brief disappearance into the hallway, and Cliffjumper stood on the decision platform like a statue, overviewing the maintenance of things.

Boom Box shifted out into the hallway just as he noticed Jetfire and Jetstorm talking quietly amongst themselves. He was pretty sure he heard the word "Blurr," but was cut off quickly when he noticed something else.

"And I suspect _you're_ going to the ceremony today?"

Shifting his gears slightly, Boom Box turned and almost crashed into Aftershock, who was standing next to his friend/ally/comrade-thing, Blackhole.

 _I – um…_

"I hear you're not that much of a talker, right?" Aftershock questioned, drawing his arms together as he puffed out some exhaust from his engine. "You don't… speak much."

 _Well, not really…_

All Boom Box could do in response was nod – physically answering both questions, but twitching one of his red optics carefully. Some Cybertronian asking him questions literally made him nervous, especially the kind of questions that didn't require just a curt nod of agreement.

"I understand," Aftershock snorted as he unfolded his servos. "I suppose you're just tired of being asked questions all day long – aren't you?"

 _Yeeeeeeaaah… I mean – I guess…_

"Well, it could be starting any cycle now, so let's go stand outside the hallway to the meeting place beforehand so we can get the best spots." Blackhole started down the hallway, and Aftershock followed after him.

Boom Box silently made his way off after them.

After all...

This was going to be a big choice…

* * *

Blurr had finally ended his shift's break – which he spent the entire time pleasantly recharging – so he could have a nice, alert brain and mind for the time of the ceremony. He wasn't surprised, that as he shifted on his berth, the subtle sound of pede-steps cruising about outside. Not surprisingly, the decision was coming on and it was time to awaken fully.

The Agent slid open the door to his berthroom and stepped out into the hallway. Nighttime had undoubtedly overwhelmed the rest of the Metroplex, and small groups of Autobots, be they friends or comrades, walked side-by-side as they moved in a steady gait down the hallway.

 _Oh, fabulous. The ceremony is starting… and Longarm Prime will have a Sparkmate._

 _Well, as long as he's happy._

Outside of the meeting room, which was certainly taking place in a plaza on an outside platform of the Metroplex, the doors were brimmed, heavy metal, and black. There were two Elite Guard security officers standing outside of those doors as the Cyberforms walked in, monitoring any unwanted, and suspicious behavior.

Blurr stepped outside and found the plaza filled with Cybertronians, no doubt about that. Some were waiting impatiently for the ceremony to begin, and others of them were crouched next to the Energon cube table platform to get some refreshments before it began.

Jazz was one of those Autobots.

"Greetings-Agent-Jazz," Blurr snorted as he approached the white-and-black mech, who twisted on his gears slightly to focus on the speedster approaching him.

Giving off a dazzling smile, Jazz forwarded, "Well, hey there. You getting' ready to prepare for Cliffjumpers ultimate fate? I know I am – you dig?"

"Suppose-I-have-no-choice-I-mean-what-else-were-we-supposed-to-do-I-just-wasn't-expecting-this-to-be-so-soon." Blurr rubbed and prodded at the back of his neck idly. "And-I-can-imagine-you're-just-standing-around-for-refreshments?"

"Yeah, I am. Those Energon cubes were looking fine, so I came over and decided to help myself to it before all this. Cliffjumper is _so_ going to be that choice, I know it! Just look at how nervous that 'Bot is!" Jazz pointed one of his lithe fingers in the direction of the vermilion Cybertronian.

Blurr cast his pupil-less blue eyes in that direction and flinched at the truth of the ninja-bot's words. Cliffjumper seemed skittish, that prideful gleam he once had had been extinguished under a gullible flame.

Scoffing internally, Blurr nodded his head and muttered out, "Fabulous. Anyway-I-think-that-we-should-just-wait-to-see-who-this-choice-is-before-we-get-too-confident."

Jazz shrugged his shoulders and lifted up his Energon cube before taking a quick swab of it. Satisfied, he shrugged off, "Eh, I'm just saying. You can't deny the obvious points. But you didn't tell me who you thought was going to be that choice…"

"Oh-you-know-I-never-really-considered-it-before-to-be-honest-and-I'm-not-making-any-assumptions-on-the-matter." Blurr held his head and sighed bleakly. "Have-you-picked-your-spot-yet?"

"Nah," Jazz grumbled. "To be honest I don't really care about where I'll be positioned. Just as long as I can get a few extra mega-cycles of recharge. This is going to be a long, _long_ evening, I have a feeling. But it isn't required to come along – I just wanted to see the look on Cliffjumper's face as he is the ultimate choice for a Bonding."

Blurr snorted before he leaned forward and helped himself to just one cube of Energon, before reaching contact with the material to his thin, white lips and dentae. He had to admit himself it was… satisfying, but nothing he was going to go crazy for. "Heh. I-just-had-recharge-so-I'm-good-to-be-honest."

"Well, you also had a break. I didn't." Jazz took another swab of his drink before returning it to its normal nature back in his hand. "I was forced to patrol the office building on the left attachment to the Metroplex. Not a single thing in sight – not a single sound. Most boring thing I've ever done. You dig?"

Acknowledging that, Blurr questioned, "Have-there-been-any-Decepticon-readings-lately-or-anything-you've-seen-I-heard-of-the-ping-outside-of-the-solar-system-yesterday-and-was-just-curious-because-the-Elite-Guard-increased-security-about-the-issue."

Jazz shook his head and snorted. "Ah, no. As I said – all quiet. I honestly doubt that ping outside of the solar system was even a Decepticon. But you know, that Council won't take their chances with it, will they? If there's something they don't know, they'll just; you know… send no one over. I guess it would be hazardous because of the ceremony today, but geez: at least send one airship over there."

"I-can-agree-with-that," Blurr offered helpfully as he rested his hands against the side of the table, watching more Cybertronians enter the room and shuffle through the plaza. "But-we're-trying-to-prevent-an-attack-as-far-as-I'm-concerned."

The ninja-bot next to him just took another sip of his Energon and shrugged casually. "Now, if I were you, I'd just try to go find a spot in that crowd. You have to see the look on Cliffjumper's face." Jazz grinned casually, showing an array of gleaming white dentae. "I'll try to get in close to it. You let me know."

"Yes-I'll-find-some-place-close," Blurr grumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll-come-see-you-after-the-ceremony-is-over. I'll-see-you-later."

Jazz nodded his head and slurped more efficiently at the material he clutched in one of his servos. "Yeah, I'll come find you – dig?" He waved his free servo before he turned back to the Energon table to get another cube that was without a doubt waiting for him.

Blurr turned his head and made his way down the steep drop of stairs and walkways as he made his way towards the center of the plaza. Most of the crowd around this place was centered here, either chatting or making some guesses or warning others about the Decepticon threat overwhelming the Metroplex at this hour.

Jetfire was standing with Warpath and Jetstorm, and once they laid optics on Blurr they all smiled, talking amongst themselves.

 _Um… what?_

Deciding to make an approach, Blurr ambled towards his fellow Elite Guard and flicked his servos towards Jetfire, who had burst out laughing at a comment Jetstorm had offered quite literally. His golden optics flickered at the speedster as the Agent approached.

"Oh – hey, Blurr. How are you doing today?" the twin asked in his heavy Russian accent.

The Intelligence team member perched one of his optic's brows, fidgeting with his digits and clutching the Energon cube he'd occupied himself with. "Well-you-see-I-was-just-wondering-why-you-were-all-looking-at-me…?"

Jetstorm laughed and crossed his arms behind his sleek head. "Ah, you see, friend – we were just making guesses on – oof!"

Jetfire had reached over and prodded Jetstorm in his exhaust fumes. "What my brother is trying to say is we were just wondering why you seem so awkward today."

Blurr twitched his faceplates. "Last-time-I-checked-I-wasn't-acting-abnormally-today-therefore-I-do-not-have-a-malfuction-in-my-gears."

Warpath shrugged his shoulders and gave a mischievous smile behind his vermilion jaw. "You never know. Maybe it's us that're having a malfunction." He gave a shrug on his heavier bodyweight but even Blurr missed that remaining smile.

"Well, you see, friend," Jetstorm continued, prodding his chassis as to make sure it was still intact, "we'll see you after the ceremony is over to tell you what we really mean about this all."

Clutching his Energon cube, Blurr snorted, "Very-well-then. I-hope-all-three-of-you-enjoy-yourselves."

It was Jetfire that laughed in response this time. "Oi, yes, Agent Blurr. Take care as well."

After Blurr had abandoned the oddly cheerful group, he weaved his way through the crowd to find a good spot, and noticed a location relatively close to the front of the platform. From here he had a good view of Longarm Prime, Ultra Magnus, and definitely Cliffjumper. Jazz had been right, still – he looked very uncomfortable.

Taking a swift sip of his Energon, Blurr relaxed a bit with the silence he was receiving. All he could do now was wait for the ceremony to begin.

Just praise the All-spark it _not_ be Cliffjumper.

* * *

"I told you already, Decepticon – you don't get access to the ceremony."

Boom Box stamped down in frustration. Often enough he was poked in the ribs about formerly conversing with Decepticons, but this was taking it a bit too far. He was one with the Elite Guard, now, and had proved himself plenty of times. But now the security managers weren't even letting him through the front doors.

"You could run off and tell Megatron what kind of things are happening here. How vulnerable the Autobots at the Metroplex are right now. That's the last thing I want happening. So… you're not invited. Simple as that."

 _But I want to_ watch.

"I know Optimus Prime and the rest of the High Autobot Council said you're worth trusting – but I don't believe a single vocalizer that says a Decepticon can ever turn good. So why don't you make use of yourself by cleaning up the plaza after the ceremony is over while the rest of the Intelligence team and Elite Guard are going on recharge?"

Boom Box stifled his snarl. He was _not_ being denied! He'd encountered a ton of other ceremonies and had never dropped so much as a word to the warlord, Megatron. But somehow he'd crashed into the one Autobot here that didn't believe it.

 _Let. Me. Through._

"Stop asking," muttered the security manager. "You can't come in. So you better turn that exhaust port of yours around and into the hallway before I -"

"For Primus' sake, just let him in." Aftershock hung in the doorway, this time not being flanked by Blackhole who had already been let in. "He hasn't done anything wrong; stop being such a slagging mudflap."

The security manager surrendered and stepped out of the way. "Fine, whatever. Just don't blame a Decepticon invasion on me."

Boom Box wanted to smile as he walked by the Cybertronian but instead just kept his face impassive as he entered, red optics flickering slightly. He glanced slightly to the left and could see Aftershock eyeing him from where he was standing. Getting a bit… uncomfortable, Boom Box bit his lower lip and tried walking on, before Aftershock's monotone voice butt in –

"Aren't you going to say 'thanks'? I did let you in, after all." The black-and-white Autobot perked one of his eye ridges and offered a dazzling smile, but Boom Box managed to keep a straight face.

 _I – uh, well – um…_

Silence.

 _Um…_

"It's okay, I'm only having some fun." Aftershock stepped away from the wall and approached the twenty-foot smaller Cybertronian ahead of him. "I don't really want you to speak, and you don't have to. I respect privacy."

 _Thank the slagging All-spark._

"But for safe measures, I think I should accompany you throughout the duration of the ceremony, because who knows who'll say you can't have something."

Boom Box choked down his protest while flushing across his white faceplates. _I don't need protection!_

Aftershock winked daintily. "Come on, I'll get you a spot. Care for some Energon?"

Shaking his head, Boom Box offered physically, _no._

"Suit yourself," Aftershock retorted as he tilted his head oddly. Like he was making some kind of scientific evaluation: Aftershock was the Sparkling of a major Cybertronian scientist, after all. Boom Box had heard of this several times before, and knew never to underestimate Aftershock's sheer intellect – for it was "probably greater than yours."

Letting himself be guided through the crowd, Boom Box locked himself up as he paced down the crowd to get to where Blackhole, Aftershock's comrade, was standing with his arms crossed and a sneer written across his faceplates.

"You brought _him_ back with you?" Blackhole growled as he eyed Boom Box up-and-down briefly. "I'm sure he'll make a great conversationalist."

Boom Box internally snarled at the other Autobot but remained impassive. Aftershock growled something to his comrade and that immediately shut him up.

 _Remind me never to mess with Aftershock._

Then, he internally kicked himself.

 _Let's just see how this ceremony plays out._

Up on the stands overhead, Cliffjumper was fidgeting about nervously, seeming the most bit awkward as he stood around his Autobot peers, Longarm was addressing Sentinel one final time, and Ultra Magnus had ascended the platform to give the speech before the Prime would take his place.

Silence began to dwell over the area as the Autobots looked up at their Magnus, who had cleared his voice before speaking into the clearing:

"Elite Guard, Intelligence team, Command, High Council – I welcome you here this evening. I'm sure you all have already picked up on the news, however, but in case you haven't I'll just let you all know here. But just a few measly two weeks ago, Cliffjumper had a conversation with our Intelligence team Commander, Longarm Prime. It was within a few of these chats that Longarm agreed to what Cliffjumper was saying… he would, undoubtedly, obtain a Sparkmate from the group of you all that stand below us here today…"

The Magnus continued, "So we have offered all what our teams could offer: help yourself to the Energon or whatever you find useful. And without further ado, I should simply step aside and let Longarm Prime make his decision." Ultra Magnus did as he said he would and let the black, silver, and blue mech take his position at the top of the platform. After he scanned the clearing, the Prime began to speak.

"Traditionally," he began, "a Bonding ceremony is to begin with recitation of the scriptures said to have been recorded in the glory days of the Thirteen. That will _not…"_ Longarm Prime shot a focused glare to the Autobots standing in the center of the plaza down below him as if to get his point across, "be happening today."

 _Figures._

"Anywho," Longarm continued, "Sparkmates have three things they must fulfill to one another. The very first one is 'Desire.' The Bonding shall be mutual – or else it shall not hold. Now, desire is a very simple word, but its implied meaning is not. It goes beyond physical attraction."

The officers standing down in the clearing looked up at their leader with interest piqued in their glowing optics, shifting on one foot to the other, drinking away at their Energon Cubes. Silence had still overwhelmed them, but the race of the spark-beats below was nearly consuming their minds. No one knew where a speech like _this w_ as going to lead, and it sent throbs throughout the chassis in the plaza.

"The second is 'Protection.' Sparkmates must not only defend one another from physical harm, but as well as internally and damage inflicted through self-damage. I vow to do as such with my honorable choice today."

It was getting closer – the back of the necks of such a group were tingling. Boom Box glanced to his right and noticed Cliffjumper was letting out much more exhaust than whatever was called for. Maybe some rumors had been true and maybe he did already know he was the choice today. Or he was just getting very nervous that it might _not_ be him. Either way, it was clear that he was nervous.

 _Hmph. Pity._

"The third and final, to 'Provide.' You are to support your Sparkmate's wishes and desires whatever they may be. The scriptures are just long lectures of what the consequences will be for ignoring such. But I can assure you today I will be breaking no rules of this and will offer whatever I can to put my decision at ease."

The final words had been said – silence wafted over the clearing as the group down in the plaza become more and more nervous. It was almost time – the decision was about to be made. Now was the moment for the choices that were being thought up of to be right – or wrong. Boom Box had to admit he wasn't thrilled with the duration of the ceremony, but he was enjoying the looks on everyone's faceplates.

"Now this is merely the opening act. Now such decisions will have to been harnessed, and as I say again, we will not be reciting the scriptures of the glory in the Thirteen Days. I shall simply put no further delay to my choices," Longarm Prime conceded finally, giving his shoulders a useless shrug from behind him, his cyan blue eyes shifting through the clearing as he eyed the crowd lingering far down below him.

Now it was time. The silence of all that was going to be accounted for. Longarm vented heavily before he let himself sit in the quiet of all that was going to be. Not a single Cybertronian stirred, said anything, thought anything. But every focused glare was directed right at the Prime standing ahead of them, his arms hanging down at his sides. Before finally, he continued on his way, "Now in which this is true, I shall leave no more of an encumbrance to your knowing…" The Prime let out more exhaust before he turned slightly to the right. "Blurr."

* * *

Blurr froze.

And nearly hacked up all the Energon that he'd been holding in his mouth. The word rang through silence in the air, ricocheted off of every surface, held fast through every circuitboard. Now, that could not be right… Could it be true…?

 _No. He'd said, "Cliffjumper." Just as I figured he would._

Blurr looked up and found nearly every Cybertonian optic in there on him, while some looked baffled. He shrank down to size when he peered up into the somehow malevolent eyes of Longarm Prime, who had his arms folded behind his back.

"And that decision is final," Longarm choked out, before he turned back to focus on Blurr.

Who stared right back at him.

The Prime started up, "Agent Blurr, I request your permission to Bond."

He just wanted to gag with surprise as the flush spread hideously across his faceplates. The truth rang cold in his audio receptors, held true within his own spark chamber. It had not been Cliffjumper, after all. It's been him.

Longarm wanted to court him.

 _Wanted_ him.

Blurr set down the Energon cube he'd been carrying, shaking with incredible nervousness as he choked out, "Yes-Sir-Longarm-Prime-Sir-what-an-honor-it-would-be-to-carry-out-being-the-role-of-your-Sparkmate-Sir."

Still, he was trying to grasp his thoughts, trying to regain his consciousness. He had given Longarm Prime the permission to court him, but… Oh, _Primus._

Now was the chance to look up at Cliffjumper as the rest of the officers began to leave the clearing. Nothing seemed very stable on that vermilion mech as he turned to leave in puffing, hot, angry strides, his digits twitching ferociously. Trembling, Blurr could see the expression on Jazz's face as he was ushered out into the hallways around him. Silence had overtaken the clearing, and only some Autobots had dared to rile up some speech.

Blurr was sure, that in the midst of those talks, he heard things such as:

"Huh. Agent Blurr. That was Longarm's choice."

"What, really? Not Cliffjumper – wait, _really?"_

"No lie. You should've seen the look on Cliffjumper's face once the truth set in."

"I wonder what him and Blurr are thinking right about now."

Blurr felt himself locking up inside as he glanced to the right, noticing that Longarm Prime was getting himself off the platform and dusting himself off his mighty shoulders. Trembling carefully, Blurr couldn't help but think of what Cliffjumper had done as he'd been leaving. Did he really mean to have been looking forward to being Longarm Prime's Sparkmate? Had that really been his intention?

Longarm Prime had reached his destination and stood there awkwardly under Blurr's silencing glare. He didn't seem uncomfortable, for the most part. He seemed… pleasant. As I that was the choice he'd always been wanting. Primus, could it really be true? Could Longarm have loved him this whole time…?

"I suppose you're going to need some time to set in from all of that," Longarm started as he folded hiss black-and-blue arms together, cyan optics twinkling the din of the rather obscure lighting.

Blurr shook his head quickly. "No-Longarm-Prime-Sir-I-don't-just-need-to-reorient-myself-a-bit-because-did-you-see-the-look-Cliffjumper's-face-it-wasn't-good…"

Longarm waved him off eagerly. "Don't worry about Cliff," he reassured his new Sparkmate as he guided him out of the plaza. "Now I suppose would be a perfect opportunity to come show you my berthroom – since that is where you're going to be recharging as of now." The Prime stepped into a narrow corridor and led him down the hallways. "As I mentioned beforehand, don't even worry about Cliffjumper."

Blurr followed after his new Sparkmate, his speed running rampant as though he'd been in a moment of needing to rescue himself. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and hindered in his very soul… Longarm Prime had wanted him… wanted him to be his. Wanted to court him.

And Cliffjumper just looked like a very, _very_ angry Cybertronian as of right now. Blurr closed his optics as he followed the reassuring footsteps of Longarm Prime down the hallway, clenching his servos terribly.

There was going to be a _lot_ to think about.


End file.
